Do you remember the 1999 movie Runaway Bride? It was the second collaboration of Julia Roberts, Richard Gere, and director Garry Marshall. Here is a short synopsis for those who might have slept since 1999 and have forgotten this romantic comedy. Woman dates a few different men, becomes engaged at different times to each of the men, and ends up leaving all of the men at the alter. Woman meets a writer who intends to use her story for his own self-interest. One thing he notices about her is she likes her eggs cooked the same way her fiancée at the time does. Spoiler alert! Woman and writer fall in love and decided to marry in a ridiculously short amount of time. Surprise! She leaves him at the alter, also. But in the end, they do get together and even marry. My younger self from 20+ years ago did not like that surprise. My wiser self (20+ years older) now recognizes that as the best part of the movie. She leaves him at the alter to discover who she is and how she likes her eggs cooked independent of any other influence. In other words, she comes to know herself before getting into a relationship. This has become something I strongly advocate.Continue reading
“I would never!”
those words get you in trouble.Continue reading
Recently I had a conversation with a friend. Her oldest child was adopted as a baby by her husband and would soon celebrate a birthday. She wondered when she should let her child know about the adoption. Continue reading
Someday, I plan on writing a ‘how-to’ book for serving in the Young Women organization. I served in the ward Young Women presidency just over 4.5 years. That’s a drop in the bucket really. There are some women who have served in the Young Women organization for over 20 years. Compared with them, I’d still be considered a rookie. A newbie. So what advice could I possibly have to offer?
This is the third and final installment of my advice to my children. You know, the ones I don’t have. But this is what I would tell my child if I had one to bore to death.
You’re a good kid. You’re also my kid with my genes flowing through you. As much as you don’t want it to be, I’m sorry to say, you’re going to have some of my attributes. It’s inevitable that you will act like me in some matters. Sorry I didn’t give you more to work with.
This is the second letter of advice to my phantom child. Sound weird? I’ve done weirder things than dole out counsel to a phantom child. Sad, yes, but true. So, this is the talk I’ve never been able to have with my 14 year old child – who doesn’t exist.
According to my Great Life Plan I drew up during my naïve teenage years, my oldest child would have been about 15 this year. But, plans don’t always work out. I will never get a chance to dispense my indispensable advice to any inattentive teen. In my upmost humble opinion, I have some pretty good guidance that’s just sitting in a metaphoric attic gathering dust.